× Horan

Hangovers. Also known as my kryptonite.

It felt like there was an ax planted through my head - the aching in my skull subsides and flows like a cold tide, swelling like a balloon only to deflate a moment later. I understood why they call it a hangover; it feels as if the blackest of clouds were over my head with no intention of clearing until late afternoon.

I hoped we were going to go sightseeing for the day because I didn't think I could take anything else. My splitting headache wouldn't allow it.

Pushing the arm off of me that belong to William, I got out of bed to open the curtains. If I was in pain, then I was going to bring everyone down with me. Also, I knew if I didn't get up then, there wasn't a chance I would get into the shower before we left for the day. Coach made us have four people to a two bed hotel room, so we were forced to share a bed with a teammate. I wouldn't have minded much if I wasn't stuck with William, also known as the bed hog.

"Do you know how expensive hotels are in Los Angeles?" Coach had said as we were being assigned our rooms yesterday. "Way too damn much, so that is why you will be sharing a bed with someone."

As soon as I pushed away the curtains in the hotel room and the warm radiance of the morning sun shined through, naturally there were moans and groans of objection from the lads still in bed. The plus side of being in California was that there was actually sun, something London wasn't very familiar with. The second the sun hit my eyes, however, I instantly regretted it. My head pounded and throbbed with memories of last night and I quickly closed the blinds again.

I sighed and realized then that I've been doing that a lot lately. I sigh when I'm frustrated with the statistics and can't make sense of the chemical models in the textbook, or when I sit in class for two hours and daydream of all the productive things I could be doing instead, or when I'm confused by the competing research literature on the desk in front of me.

But lately there had only been one reason for my exhale of breath, and that reason was Lynn Mercury. I knew, even though we had gone to California to watch her play, that this was far from over. I had the feeling she would be around quit often, unfortunately.

The digital clock on the night stand was glowing that it was nine in the morning. I had no idea what Coach had planned for the day, but whatever it was I knew he was going to be knocking on the door at any moment.

A pillow was thrown at me from Dylan. I caught it in midair and chucked it back at him two times the force he had.

Walking over to my duffle bag, I grabbed my little bottle of Advil, thanking my past self for thinking of packing it, and threw two pills into my mouth and swallowed it dry. Then I retrieved my clothes so I could get into the shower.

Before I could get to the bathroom, however, there was a knock on the hotel door. I opened it to reveal a well slept Coach Mathews. He was a tall man with scruff along his jaw with a baseball cap covering his dark hair.

"Good, you're up," he said matter-of-factly. It sounded more like a detail and less than a greeting, almost like he was checking it off his mental list for the day. "You all better be ready by ten thirty and meet me in the lobby. There's a big day ahead of us!"

There were more groans of protest that followed but I blocked them out by the bathroom door.

× × ×

We weren't going sightseeing that was for damn sure.

Walking through the UCLA Fitness Center, I looked around to see if I could find an escape route. I was down for anything just as long as I could leave and never step foot in that goddamn university again. But I didn't see anything. No windows or even side doors. It was like a prison. The only thing I was missing was the jump suit and horrible food.

Honestly, I just didn't want to see her again.

Last night at that dumb party, my intention wasn't to step in and to defend her from that opposing team they played against. I couldn't even give a good reason why I did it; I just knew that girl calling Lynn out was pissing me off more than Lynn herself. If anything got on my nerves more than her, it was anyone calling out false plays.

The last thing Lynn said to me was to stay away and nothing felt more right than to do just that. But there I was again, in the same stadium, seeing the same faces I saw yesterday on the field. But this time they weren't going to be playing against the North Carolina Wolfpack, they were going to be playing against the London Lions.

Apparently Coach talked to their coach and set up this scrimmage nonsense. You could imagine I was quite put off by that idea.

Once the team walked through the double doors and the pitch spread out in front of us, we saw that the girls were already there and warming up. Some were kicking balls into the goal as their goalie tried to stop them, some were running around the field, and the others were at the center circle stretching. But there was someone missing.

"Where's Lynn?" Reece asked, voicing my observation as Coach led us to the empty benches a few feet away.

"She probably chickened out," I couldn't help but say as I took a seat on the cold medal bench.

"Wow," a voice said from behind us, making the team turn to look to see who it was. Lynn was standing there, a football rested in the crook of her arm, looking at me like I was the worst thing to enter her life. "As much as I would love to be sleeping right now, I would never pass up the opportunity to kick your ass at soccer."

There was a chorus of "ohh's" from Reece, James and some of the others as they watched her run away onto the field, joining her teammates in the center circle.

"She does not like you, mate," Jace said, sitting down next to me.

"I'm not here to please people."

As I was putting on my shin guards and knee brace, I watched as Lynn bent down at the waist and pulled at her cleated feet in a stretch.

I couldn't help myself but to admit that she looked good despite my hate toward her. She had on a loose, pale green tank top that showed her gray sports bra through the arm holes. Her tight spandex shorts were the same color as her bra with the number thirteen printed in white on one of the legs. Lynn's hair was currently down her back with the warm wind blowing it around her face, but I knew when the scrimmage game started up, it would be back up in a ponytail.

"Mate, you're staring," Jace observed.

I looked over at him. "What? No, I'm glaring."

Jace grinned. "Whatever, Horan."

× × ×

Ten minutes later we were ordered to get into our positions on the field. I ran over to the center and took my place at the right of the circle, a girl with blonde hair from the opposite team coming and standing in front of me.

I waited for everyone to get in their place and for the ball to be put in the center for the game to start. Coach Sharp stood a few feet away from me with a whistle between her lips. Coach Mathews was on the other side of the pitch looking out at the players.

"Horan!" Coach yelled at me. "Switch places with Walker."

I looked over at Reece who was on the left of the circle, in front of Lynn. Coach Mathews was a man who loved things where they belonged, things that were in order. He would never, ever switch his players around unless it was for desperate measures. And since he was trying to convince me that Lynn was good for our team, I knew that he had passed that point of desperation to jeopardize his balance of order.

"But this is my spot!" I defended childishly.

Coach gave me a look and I sighed loudly so everyone knew that I was frustrated and beyond over with the game already.

Reese passed me as we switched spots and gave me a cocky grin. I wanted to smack it off his face.

Coach moved me on purpose. He wanted Lynn and he needed my approval. But the joke was on him because he just got Lynn lower on my never-let-this-chick-on-the-team scale.

I stood in front of Lynn and glared at her. Like I predicted, her hair was pulled into a ponytail, stray hairs pushed back with a pink headband. Her deep blue eyes were piercing into mine as we stared each other down.

Suddenly it wasn't just a game between the boys and girls; it was a game between Lynn and I. The ultimate test to who was the better player.

I've always been the obnoxious football fan that not only plays as much as possible, but pretty much tweets and annoys every person that I've ever met about the sport and all its glory. It's the only thing that finds a way to clear out my mind completely when I need it most. I know that probably sounded absolutely ridiculous and absurd because nothing can really stop us from thinking, especially if you have a mind like mine, but we all have something that transports us into another world, if only for 90 minutes.

Lynn was making it really hard for me to see it as anything but a sport. I lost sight of the game, and that it didn't have anything to do with winning. But with her, I wanted to win - I needed to win.

"You look worried," I grinned triumphantly. "Scared you'll lose?"

She laughed halfheartedly. "I would save your breath if I were you," she said confidently, her voice smooth like silk. "You'll need it to blow up your date later."

I was too focused on Lynn and her insult, trying to think of a comeback of my own, that I barely heard the whistle blow. The ball come flying down the center line toward us. She beat me to it and rammed her shoulder into my chest, making me stumbled back a little.

Running up right beside her, I was about to kick out at the ball, but before I had the chance, she passed it to one of her teammates.

Lynn looked over at me with a boastful grin before she ran off to find some open space.

The game went on like that. The two of us were constantly next to each other trying to fight the ball off. We keep tricking each other - stopping the ball and then changing direction right away - but it only lasted for a few seconds before one of us was right there again.

Thirty five minutes into the game, I couldn't believe how hot I was getting. Sweat was beating down my forehead. When I looked at my teammates, I saw that I wasn't the only victim to the heat. The California weather was going to kill us. Everyone on the field was breathing heavily, even after having at least a five minuet break while someone was subbed in. The score was tied 2-2 and my heart was thumping fast in my chest from exhaustion.

As everyone went back into their positions to start a new play, I pulled my shirt up by the head hole to wipe the sweat running down my face, but it did little to nothing as my whole body was wet from perspiration. Lynn was in front of me, watching my every move and it surprisingly wasn't uncomfortable being under her vigilant eyes.

The heat my body was creating was almost unbearable. Not caring what anyone thought, I lifted my shirt over my head and threw it outside of the field next to Coach.

"No!" Lynn shouted suddenly. "No, no, no," she continued with a frown. I smiled at her cleverly, knowing she was looking at my naked torso. "This isn't a damn shirts and skins game. Coach!"

"If this was a shirts and skins game, babe, you best believe we wouldn't be skins," James called to her.

"I dare you to say that again to my face," one of the girls shouted from across the field. It was the girl with the silver septum piercing and incredible sleeve tattoo. She looked like she could take down James in a heartbeat and I was almost hopping he would say it to her face just so I could watch it happen.

The smirk on James' face vanished, obviously seeing that he would rather not have a black eye.

"Coach..." Lynn bagged.

Coach Sharp shrugged, a smile playing on the corner of her lips playfully. "Sorry, kiddo," she told Lynn. "I can't tell him what to do because this isn't an actual game, and I'm not a real referee."

Lynn looked at her coach with disbelief. Then she turned to me, her eyes on fire. "If you think this is going to distract me, you're wrong," she spat which only widened my grin more. She positioned herself in front of me again. Irritation was obvious on her face.

"Next team to score a goal wins!" Coach Mathews' voice boomed through the arena.

The game started again and minutes passed without anyone even getting close to scoring. Lynn was right when she said she wouldn't get distracted, but I've caught her more than once looking at my upper body.

As the game went on, some of the lads also took off their shirts and threw them to the sidelines.

Lynn managed to get a few feet away from me with the ball as she booked it as fast as she could across the field. Reese came out of nowhere and started running alongside her and I watched as he kicked out at the ball and shoved Lynn to the side. His momentum was a little too much and it knocked Lynn off her feet. She fell hard and rolled once, landing on her side in the grass. It seemed like the shove knocked the wind out of her.

Reese ran off with the ball and left Lynn on the ground without even looking over his shoulder at her.

"Hey!" I shouted angrily at him, but he just kept running. I jogged the distance between Lynn and I. "Are you okay?" I asked her, my voice surprisingly tender. I held my hand out for her to take. In the distance I heard cheering and I assumed Reese had scored, but my attention wasn't on the game anymore.

She pushed my hand away and stood up slowly on her own. "I'm fine," she admitted, brushing the dirt off her spandex shorts. "Just a little surprised is all."

Reese came running up then, but before he could even say anything, I spoke.

"What the hell is your problem?" I shouted at him. "You don't just push someone down like that and then leave? You know how much bigger you are than her."

"I know and I'm sorry," he apologized, looking at Lynn who was standing there awkwardly. Her hand was on her hip I couldn't help but notice and wondered how hard she had fallen. "I'm just not used to playing with girls, I'm sorry, really. Are you okay?"

At that point, other plays had started to gather. Our coach's didn't seem to notice the problem as they were now huddled together at the side of the field, talking.

"I'm fine," Lynn stated sternly, eyes narrowed. "I'm a girl, not a glass vase. It was just a push I wasn't expecting." Then she looked at me. "I'd think you would know better than to stop in the middle of a game to help me up."

"You fell pretty hard," I defended myself.

She just shook her head and started walking away.

I debated if I should follow her, and even though I knew it was a bad idea, I did anyways. I jogged to catch up, leaving the players behind me. I grabbed Lynn's wrist to make her turn around and look at me.

She turned and jerked her wrist out of my grasp. Her eyes were filled with rage. "Stop!" she shouted. "Just stop whatever you're trying to do and leave me alone."

"I'm not trying to do anything..." I reached up to run my hand through my hair, but Lynn flinched away from me... almost like she thought I was going to hit her. I paused momentarily to see what she would do next, but she just continued to glare at me.

"Well don't," she snapped, like her flinch didn't even happen. "I don't need this. You act like you hate my guts by sending me glares and barely accepting my presence, and then you turn a complete one eighty and suddenly you care if something happens to me. It's not even from today, but last night at the party, too, when you dragged me out of the house after I attacked Katie. Just... don't talk to me anymore and go back to pretending I don't exist."

I stood at the edge of the field and watched as Lynn turned her back on me and walking through the double doors into the university.